Toby, the perpetually morose looking cat
by Arienhod
Summary: "Oh, you met Toby. Isn't he lovely?" "That's not how I would describe him." Sherlock answered.


Sherlock wasn't really paying attention where Molly was taking him. He knew the final destination was her flat but he didn't really care how they got there. It wasn't too far from Barts and Molly knew all surrounding alleyways which helped avoid the CCTV cameras so there was no reason for him to look too closely.

Instead he was looking down with a hood of an ugly parka over his head, covering his hair that was, according to Molly, too recognizable.

He was still lost in thoughts when they arrived at her flat and she steered him towards her bedroom. He thought about protesting but knew it was useless. He would leave in few days anyway and she'll have her space back.

"Toby will probably join you in the middle of the night. If he bothers you too much just shoo him off the bed and he'll leave the room. He gets insulted easily."

"He's a cat."

"Cat's have personalities. Toby is a cat. So, Toby has a unique personality." Molly said with a wide smile, "He's a really nice boy."

"He's a cat." Sherlock repeated.

"Good night, Sherlock." She said and left the room leaving the door partially open in case something happens. She worried he would have a nightmare about the fall only there wouldn't be a giant inflatable pad for him to land on.

Sherlock was silent for a moment before he removed the clothes Molly acquired for him and got under the warm cover in only his pants. The bed was slightly shorter then his back at Baker Street but at the time it would have to do. He knew for a fact once he leaves London and goes on a hunt for Moriarty's men he would be sleeping at way more uncomfortable places.

He fell asleep minutes later, his body drained of the adrenaline that surged through him earlier that day. Usually Sherlock was a light sleeper but he didn't wake up when Molly accidentally knocked over a vase that then shattered into million pieces, when she cursed after banging her foot in the coffee table leg, or when a soft ball of fur jumped on the bed where he was sleeping and nestled on the pillow next to his head.

So the proper introduction between the consulting detective and Toby the cat didn't happen until early next morning when Sherlock opened his eyes and saw a cat face just inches from his own. He was startled for a moment before realizing the unimpressed looking cat was actually Molly's beloved pet.

"Molly!" Sherlock called as he walked towards the kitchen, "Coffee!"

"Had a good sleep?" Molly asked turning around with a coffee cup in each hand, ready to give one to Sherlock, when she noticed her was wrapped in a sheet and frowned.

"Now you look like that perpetually morose looking cat of yours." He grumbled and took a cup from her outstretched hand.

"Oh, you met Toby. Isn't he lovely?"

"That's not how I would describe him." Sherlock answered, walking to the sitting room, before he placed the cup on the table and threw himself on the sofa.

"Well, people on the Internet think otherwise." Molly said casually, fully knowing he wouldn't know what she was talking about and demand an explanation.

And after few minutes of silence, during which Sherlock tried to decipher the meaning of her words, he finally asked, "What does that even mean?"

"It means Toby is Internet famous. He's the Grumpy cat!"

A quiet meow came from Toby, like he was confirming his human's words. Sherlock glanced down on the ball of fur next to the sofa that observed him closely for a moment, before it decided the other human was obviously harmless, and jumped next to him.

It was two years later, after a rather gruesome day at the morgue, that Molly returned to her small flat and found her two her favorite men spending time together. She knew Sherlock was back; he surprised her that morning in the locker room and nearly gave her a heart attack. But she had no idea he would come to her place again. He didn't have a reason to do so.

"Sherlock? What are you doing?" she asked, completely confused by the sight of the consulting detective lying on the sofa and pulling at Toby's face. It surprised her even more that Toby was allowing it. He was an easy going cat but even he had his limits.

"I'm trying to get him to smile."


End file.
